Julian stumbled after Jake through the reeking darkness to the car. Relieved to find it still there and in one piece, he started the engine and pulled around to the street in time to see Ginger climb onto the back of a motorbike. The guy in front of her had the bloated body of a weightlifter gone to seed. He looked, to Julian, like he could’ve effortlessly picked up him and Jake, one in each of his hands, and cracked their heads together. They followed the motorbike to a street in which hardly any of the houses had all their doors and windows intact. Ginger and the man went into one of the houses. A light came on in the downstairs window.
“What now?” asked Julian.
“We wait,” said Jake, rocking in his seat, too ramped up to stay still, his eyes wide and glinting.
Ten minutes passed, twenty. The biker reappeared, mounted up and roared away. Jake got out of the car. Somewhat reluctantly, Julian followed. With each step, he had the sense that he was drawing closer to some invisible edge. You should stop this now, he thought. But he didn’t stop it. As they neared the front door, Jake pointed around the side of the house, whispering, “Stay out of sight while I talk to her.”
Jake knocked at the door. Peeping around the corner, Julian could see his hand fidgeting at something — no doubt, the knife — inside his jacket. He passed his tongue over his suddenly dry lips. “Who is it?” a female voice asked through the door — this wasn’t the kind of neighbourhood where you opened your door after dark without knowing who was knocking.
“Jake Bradshaw.”
“What do you want?”
“It’s about my sister?”
There was a pause, then the click of a lock and the squeak of a door opening. “What about her?”
“I just wondered if you’d seen her in the past few weeks.”
“No I haven’t.” The reply was spoken without hesitation, as if Ginger had been ready with it before the question was even asked.
“You sure you haven’t seen her?”
“I just said so, didn’t I? Is that all?”
“Yeah, unless you wanna suck my cock.”
“What? Is that some kind of joke?”
“Nah, seriously, I’ve got twenty quid here. That’s the going rate, isn’t it?”
“Piss off, you filthy little shit,” retorted Ginger, starting to close the door.
Jake shoved his foot between the door and the frame. He grinned as Ginger tried unsuccessfully to kick it out of the way. “That’s it, baby, I like it when you get rough.”
“I’m fuckin’ warning you,” yelled Ginger.
In response, Jake drew his hand out of his jacket. He wasn’t holding the knife, as Julian had feared. Instead, he gripped a crowbar. “Don’t, Jake,” cried Julian, springing forward. But he was too late. Jake brought the crowbar down with bone-breaking force on Ginger’s hand that held the door. She reeled backward onto the floorboards, crying out.
Jake loomed over her, brandishing the crowbar. “Where’s my fuckin’ sister?”
“Jesus, Jake, there was no need for that,” said Julian, his heart pounding in his voice.
“This bitch lied to me. Now she’s gonna open up and tell the truth, or I’m gonna open her fuckin’ head.”
Ginger’s eyes flicked between Jake and Julian, wide with pain and anger. “You’re crazy,” she groaned. “When Bull finds out about this, he’ll kill you.”
Jake’s lips curled into a sneer. “Ooh, I’m shaking.”
“You will be when he gets hold of you.”
Jake snorted. “That fat fuck couldn’t shift his arse fast enough to catch a snail, never mind me.”
“Maybe, but you won’t be able to outrun all The Outlaws.”
“Fuck The Outlaws. Bunch of bearded old cunts tossing each other off in their clubhouse.” Jake jabbed at Ginger with the crowbar. “Besides, if you don’t tell me what you were doin’ in a car with Mia and some guy the night she went missing, you won’t be in no state to tell nobody nothin’, you get me?”
Ginger blinked at the mention of the car, the anger in her face shading to a kind of hesitating fear. She looked at Julian. “You’d better tell your friend to back off, before he goes too far.”
Julian spread his hands helplessly, as if to say, sorry, but there’s nothing I can do. He returned Ginger’s gaze in a mute appeal for her to tell Jake what he wanted to know. “Right, you’ve got five seconds,” said Jake. “Then I start breaking bones. One…two-”
“Don’t make me laugh. Run away, little boy, while you still can,” said Ginger, grinning up at him. But it was bravado, and they all knew it.
“Three…four-”
Ginger raised her uninjured hand. “Okay, okay.” She heaved a quivering breath. “Yeah, I was with Mia that night. But how could you know that unless you’ve spoken to her since then?”
“That don’t matter. You just tell me why.”
“We were on the job.”
“Do you mean like prostitutes?” said Julian.
“No, I mean like Jehovah’s Witnesses,” Ginger retorted sarcastically.
Julian wasn’t surprised, of course. He’d guessed it all along. But even so, without him being aware of it, some tiny part of him had clung to the hope that he was wrong. Sadness clouded his eyes — sadness and something else, something which frightened him like a face leering out from a nightmare. “Where did you take Mia?” His voice was tight and trembling.
“I didn’t take her anywhere. The client’s driver picked us up and took us to his house. We did the job and left.”
“So Mia was fine when you left her.”
“Yeah.” There was something not quite convincing about Ginger’s tone. Julian heard it, and Jake did too. Jake made a threatening movement with the crowbar, prompting Ginger to go on, “Well, she was a bit quiet. You know, kind of faraway. But then she was always like that after we did a job.”
“You mean this wasn’t the first time.”
“No. I’d done a few jobs with her and Jo before.”
“Joanne Butcher?”
Ginger nodded. “I hadn’t seen Mia for months. Then, after Jo died, she came to see me, said she needed money. So I set the job up.”
“Did she say what for?”
“No. Probably for junk.”
“My sister wasn’t no junkie,” snapped Jake, his face contracting into a scowl.
“Okay fine, she wasn’t a junkie, but she needed money for something.”
“Yeah, probably to get the fuck out of this town.”
“Well whatever. We did the job, she went her way and I went mine, and that’s all there is to tell.”
“Who was the client?” asked Julian.
Ginger made no reply, her lips compressing.
“Who was the fuckin’ client?” said Jake.
“Just some guy,” said Ginger. “What does it matter?”
Anger flashed up inside Julian like oil in a frying-pan flaring to flame. He snatched the crowbar off Jake and shoved it into Ginger’s stomach hard enough to force her breath out in a hiss. She tried to push him away, but he caught hold of her hand. “There’s a girl missing. Maybe dead. Maybe runaway. Maybe imprisoned somewhere. So you’re gonna tell us who this fucker is, understand?”
“I dunno his name,” gasped Ginger. “He calls himself Mr X.”
“Mr X?” Julian repeated incredulously. “You’re lying again.”
“It’s the truth. Look, this guy comes to me, says he wants me to keep an eye out for girls like…well, girls like Jo and Mia. What makes you think a guy like that would want me to know his name?”
“You know where he lives, though.”
“Yeah, but like I said, Mr X didn’t do nothing to Mia.”
Julian stared into Ginger’s eyes, darkly. “Yes he did. And you’re gonna take us to his house.”
“Trust me, you really don’t want to go there.”
“Trust you,” said Jake, with something between a laugh and a snarl. “That’s a good one.”
Ginger’s gaze transferred to Jake, and Julian was surprised to glimpse beneath the hard-bitten mask of her face a glimmer of what might’ve been concern. “Leave now and I promise I won’t tell anyone about this.”
“We’re leaving alright, but you’re coming with us.” Jake took a length of rough brown rope from inside his jacket. He tied Ginger’s hands, taking no care to be gentle with her injured hand. Then he took back the crowbar and said to Julian, “Fetch the car.”
Julian sprinted to the car. His hands were shaking so badly he fumbled the keys twice before managing to slide them into the ignition. He parked in the driveway, keeping the motor running. Jake emerged from the house, leading Ginger by the arm. He’d put away the crowbar and the knife glinted in his hand, the point of its blade touching Ginger’s side. They got into the backseat. “Which way?” asked Jake. Ginger said nothing. He pushed the blade a little harder against her and, with an intake of breath, she pointed wordlessly.
Julian followed her finger across town, heading south. Ginger leant forward and spoke in his ear. “You can still stop this before it’s too late,” she said, echoing his thoughts.
“No one’s stopping anything,” hissed Jake.
“This guy, Mr X, he’s not someone you want to mess with.”
“Neither am I.”
Ginger shot Jake a mocking glance. “Oh I know all about you, Jake Bradshaw. Thug, petty thief, loser.”
“At least I’m not a whore.”
“Unlike your sister.”
With a lurking light of violence in his wet, black wolf’s eyes, Jake yanked Ginger backward. “Do you fuckin’ want me to stick this blade in you, or what?”
“Go on then, do it.” There was a sneering undertone of laughter in Ginger’s voice.
“I will if you don’t shut your fuckin’ gob.”
“You haven’t got the balls. I know your type. I’ve known you all my life. You’re a nothing. A lost little boy trying to cover up how shit-scared he is with a lot of big talk.”
Jake’s lips drew back from his teeth in a snarl. “Fuck you! Fucking whore-bitch! Fucking slut!”
As Jake spat the stream of obscenities at Ginger, an image rose into Julian’s mind of his Grandma Alice’s possessed face — the bulging, hate-filled eyes, the flaring nostrils, the sneering grin. Chest constricting as if in a vice, he pulled over and jerked around to glare at Ginger and Jake. “Fucking enough! Both of you,” he managed to squeeze out.
Ginger gave Julian a weighing-up look. “Now you, you’re no born loser. You come from money, don’t you? I can tell. I should be able to. I’ve fucked enough of your kind in my time. What I can’t work out is who you are and what you’re doing here.”
“I’m a friend of Mia’s.”
“So how come I’ve never seen you with her?”
“I’ve only known her a few weeks.”
“Then you’re not her friend. Kids like her don’t make friends easy. Especially not with people like you.” She narrowed her eyes. “No, you’re something else. You look like a nice boy, but there’s something about you — your voice, or your eyes, or something…”
Julian’s fingers dug into the headrest, his eyes jumping around in a quick, jittery way. “There it is again,” said Ginger. “It’s in the eyes. Can’t you see it, Jake?”
“I dunno what you’re on about,” muttered Jake. He frowned at Julian. “Do you know what she’s on about?”
Julian shook his head. He couldn’t speak. The car seemed airless. “Course he knows,” said Ginger. “That fucker’s got shifty eyes. Like he’s got something to hide.”
Her voice was like fingernails on a blackboard, scratching at Julian’s nerves. All he could think about was shutting her up. His eyes landed on the knife in Jake’s hand. “You’d like to use that on me, wouldn’t you?” said Ginger, taunting, but with a quiver of nervousness in her voice. “Bet you’d like to fuck me while you’re using it n’all. That what you did to Mia, is it, hmm?”
That was more than Julian could take. He jumped out the car, sucking for air to shout, “Sick! You’re sick!” It wasn’t clear if the words were directed at Ginger or himself.
Jake got out too. He pointed the knife at Julian, suspicion rife in his eyes. “Why would she say that?”
“She’s trying to turn you against me, distract us from what we’re here to do.”
Jake looked hard at Julian for a moment. “I guess you’re right.” He didn’t sound entirely convinced, but he lowered the knife and ducked back into the car. “Come on, let’s get this fuckin’ over with.”
Taking a steadying breath, Julian got back behind the wheel. “Fifteen,” he said, looking at Ginger in the rear-view mirror. “Mia and Joanne were only fifteen. How do you live with yourself?”
Ginger pushed her face close to his again, nostrils flaring indignantly. “I was the same age when I started turning tricks.”
“That doesn’t make it right.”
“Fuck you. Don’t you sit there with your silver spoon up your arse judging me. You don’t know shit.”
Jake grabbed Ginger’s shoulders and yanked her back. “Another word, bitch, and I’ll gag you. Just keep your mouth shut and point.”
After glaring at Jake a few seconds, Ginger raised her bound hands and pointed. Julian resumed driving, heading through the wealthy southern suburbs, nearing the turn off for the street he lived on. He found himself wondering uneasily if Mr X was anyone his parents knew. Perhaps he was a family man with a wife and children to support. Perhaps they were all tucked up in bed, blissfully ignorant that the man they looked up to and depended on was about to be exposed as a deviant and maybe worse. A small kernel of relief opened in Julian’s chest as they passed the end of his street and left behind the outskirts of the town. The forest rose up on either side of the road like a dark green wall.
“How much further?” asked Julian.
“Not much further now.” Ginger pointed again, and Julian turned onto a road that led towards the heart of the forest. At first they passed a few houses tucked back into the trees. Then there were only trees and more trees.
“You sure this is the right way?” asked Julian. He knew — or, at least, thought he knew — the forest well enough to know that there were no houses for the next ten or so miles.
“Yeah, I’m sure.”
“You better not be shitting us,” warned Jake.
“I’m not, but you might wish I was before this is over.”
Jake made a scoffing noise. “Why? Who is this Mr X? Some kind of big-time criminal or something?”
“He’s your worst nightmare.”
A shudder ran through Julian. Jake burst into a sneering laugh. “Yeah, well I’m looking forward to meeting him.” He ran his finger along his knife. “Me and him’s gonna have a nice little chat.”
Ginger shook her head, sighing. “Turn in there.” She pointed to a gravel road so narrow and overgrown that you could easily drive by without noticing it. There was no sign to suggest it led anywhere in particular. Julian winced as branches scraped along the car.
“You ever been to this part of the forest before?” Julian asked Jake.
“No. You?”
“I don’t think so.” Much of the forest looked the same, making it difficult to know exactly where you were a lot of the time. After about half-a-mile, the road forked. At Ginger’s direction, they took the left fork, which descended into a heavily wooded valley. As the trees crowded more thickly, Julian had a familiar sense that he was entering a hidden world — a world he was usually more comfortable in than anywhere else, but which at that moment seemed sinister and menacing.
“Ah, this is bollo-” Jake started to say, but broke off as, after climbing a steep incline, they rounded a curve and came to a tall iron gate topped with spikes. A razor-wire fence stretched to either side of it. Beyond it, the road continued to curve to the right, out of sight behind trees that swayed darkly in the night breeze with a wailing murmur like a creature in pain.
“Back up,” hissed Jake, pointing at a security camera on the gatepost. Julian reversed around the corner. Jake opened his door. “You stay here and watch her while I check this place out.”
“Wait,” said Ginger. “Please, please don’t do this. This is crazy.” And the way she said it gave Julian a shrivelling feeling, as though he was teetering right on the edge of a cliff within himself.
“She’s right,” said Julian. “This is crazy. We should call the police, let them deal with this guy.”
“Jake, listen to him, he’s talking sense.”
Scowling, Jake hawked and spat. “Fuck the police and fuck both of you.” He got out of the car and, hunkering into a low run, quickly melted into the darkness.
Julian glanced at the clock. It was just after two am. He took out his mobile-phone. “You won’t get a signal out here,” said Ginger. She was right. Julian stared out the window, biting his thumbnail. A few minutes crept by. The wind dropped and silence pressed in on him from every side. He heaved a breath just to break it.
“How do you know Mia?” asked Ginger. Julian made no reply. Telling her that would be as good as telling her his name, and he didn’t want her knowing who he was or, more importantly, who his parents were. “It may surprise you to know that I care about what happens to her.”
Julian turned to look at Ginger, incredulous.
“You’ve no right to look at me like that,” she said. “Not until you’ve lived my life. You think I like living this way? You think I chose this life? You think I chose to be conceived in the womb of an alcoholic mother from the seed of a one-night stand?” She shook her head. “Ah, what the fuck am I telling you this for? Unless you’ve been there, you can’t understand how it is.”
“But I want to understand,” said Julian, thinking about Mia, thinking that maybe it would help him understand her.
“Then you’re as crazy as that boy out there.”
“I need to know where Mia’s been.”
“Why?”
“Because maybe then I can work out where she’s gone.”
Giving Julian another long, appraising stare, as if she wasn’t sure what to make of him, Ginger said, “You into sexual role-play? You know, dressing up, acting out a part?”
“No.”
“Well the client me and Mia were brought here to…” Ginger searched for the right word, “service was into it. He had very specific needs. He wanted a fourteen or fifteen-year old girl, a blonde, girl-next-door type. And she had to be English, not some dyed-blonde, two-a-penny Eastern European slut. That’s where the real premium comes in. It didn’t matter so much about the woman, just so long as she was old enough to be the girl’s mother.”
A queer, sick feeling rose in Julian. He put his fist to his mouth, swallowing.
“You see where this is going, don’t you?” said Ginger. “Do you want me to go on?” Julian nodded. He didn’t want to hear it, but he had to. So she went on and told him how her and Mia played mother and daughter, and the client played father. And she told him how together they’d ‘serviced’ the client, the things they’d done and the things they’d said. And suddenly the sickness in him was replaced by rage-fuelled visions of punching, kicking and strangling the life out of Mr X, whoever the bastard was. “How could you?” The words grated between his teeth. “How could you do those things?”
“It’s business, that’s all,” said Ginger, eyeing him warily. “You just do it and don’t think about it.”
“Yeah, well it makes me want to hurt something thinking about that ugly fucker with his hands on Mia.”
“What makes you think the client was ugly?”
It suddenly occurred to Julian that there was an important question he hadn’t asked. “What does Mr X look like?”
“Dunno, I’ve never seen him.”
Julian screwed up his face in confusion. “But how’s that possible? You said-”
“I know what I said,” interjected Ginger. She sighed. “Okay, look, here’s the truth…” She fell silent, biting her lip, as if she was having second thoughts about saying what’d been on the tip of her tongue.
“Go on,” implored Julian. “If you really do care for Mia.”
Ginger’s eyes flashed with resentment. “You think I’d be here if I didn’t care for her? Anything you or Jake could do to me is nothing, you hear me, nothing compared to what Mr X will do when finds out I brought you here.” A sheen of tears filmed her eyes. She blinked them away and managed a grim smile. “Fuck it. If you dance, you got to pay the piper, right? Truth is, Mr X wasn’t the client. He’s the guy who sets up the jobs.”
“You mean like a middle-man?”
“I suppose. When there’s a job going, he rings and tells me what the client wants. I sort out the girl, or girls, or whatever, then he sends his driver to pick us up and take us to the house. The driver and the client are the only people we ever see. After the job’s done, the driver pays us and takes us back to town.”
“So you’ve only ever spoken to Mr X on the phone.”
“Yes.”
“Well, could the driver be Mr X?”
“Dunno, he never says anything. I doubt it, though. He’s a big guy, looks like he’d have a big, deep voice. Mr X’s voice is clicky, like…like some kind of insect.”
“What about the client? What was he like?”
“Middle-aged, average looking. You know the type, hair starting to go, bit of a beer-belly. He looked like somebody’s dad.”
Julian cleared his throat in disdain. “Just you’re average guy with average fantasies about raping his daughter. Don’t suppose Mr Average told you his name?”
Ginger looked at Julian as if to say, what do you reckon? He pushed his hand through his hair, digging his fingernails into his scalp, almost drawing blood. “How does something like this happen around here?”
“Why shouldn’t it? What’s special about here? It’s just a place like any other.”
No it’s not, thought Julian, this is my home, the place I grew up. Stuff like this happens other places, not here. He remembered what his Grandma Alice had said to him all those years ago. She’d said, someday, sweetheart, you’ll find out that there’s a great big world beyond this speck of a town, but not today. Well, he was seeing that world now, whether he wanted to or not. Only he didn’t have to look beyond the town, it was right there in front of him. The whole world contained in one place. The whole beautiful, ugly world.
More time passed. Julian glanced at the clock again. It was nearly half-an-hour since Jake had left the car. “How much longer you gonna wait for him?” asked Ginger.
“As long as it takes.”
“He’s a crazy little shit, but I like him. You like him, too, don’t you?”
Julian hadn’t really thought about it. But now that he did, he realised Ginger was both right and wrong. Jake was someone he found easy to like and dislike, the same as Mia. Besides, it wasn’t really a question of like or dislike. He was drawn to both Mia and Jake by something else. He couldn’t define what it was. It was simply there, haunting him like a shadow in the moonlit forest, seemingly too vague and deep to be expressed in words. “Yeah, I guess I do,” he said, not seeing any point trying to explain what he couldn’t explain.
“Then drive to the edge of the forest, phone the coppers. Every minute you stay here puts him in more danger.”
Julian stared out the window, biting his lip.
“Listen to me.” Ginger’s voice grew loud with urgency. “You’re way out of your depth. That boy’s gonna end up hurt, maybe dead. And it’ll be on your conscience, ’cos he wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you.”
Julian twisted around to look at her. “How do you know that?”
“Well someone must’ve seen me in the car with Mia, and I’m guessing that someone was you.”
Julian’s forehead scrunched into lines of uncertainty. “Maybe I should go look for Jake.”
Ginger shook her head. “Do that and you’ll be fucked too. Besides, the second you leave me I’m out of this car and running for the main-road.”
Julian resumed looking out the window, his hands clenching and unclenching on the steering-wheel. “Come on, Jake,” he muttered, “Where the fuck are-” He broke off with a start as a light came on, flooding the road ahead with its harsh white glow.
“Shit!” cried Ginger. “Let’s get out of here!”
His heart beating in his mouth, Julian’s hand shot to the ignition key. He hesitated to turn it. “What the fuck you waitin’ for?” yelled Ginger, almost choking on her own panic.
“Shh,” hissed Julian. From around the curve in the road came a scraping, electronic whirr.
“The gate’s opening. Oh God, oh God, he’s coming! You have to hurry. Please, please.”
Still, Julian hesitated, held in place by that indefinable something else. There was the click of a door opening. Ginger lurched out of the car and fled, stumbling in her high-heels on the uneven, stony surface. Julian didn’t go after her. He goggled at the road ahead, his eyes illuminated externally by the security-light and internally by the fear coursing through him like fire. The internal light flared brighter as Jake staggered into view and collapsed against the car’s bonnet, his head hanging forward. Flinging the door open, Julian rushed to help him upright. When he caught sight of the blood oozing from Jake’s mouth and nostrils, he felt a sharp dropping sensation inside. “What happened?”
“Get me the fuck away from here,” Jake replied, with a gurgle in his voice.
One arm around Jake’s waist, Julian guided him onto the backseat. Jake didn’t seem to notice — or if he did, didn’t care — that Ginger was gone. “What happened?” Julian asked again.
Jake made no reply. He lay with his eyes closed, breath grating in his throat. There was no room to turn the car. Julian was forced to back up along the lane. The car jolted around each curve. Half-watching where he was going and half-watching for signs of pursuit, he’d almost lost control of it several times already, when its read end skidded out. The car spun around clockwise until, with a sound of crunching glass, the front-headlight hit a tree. Jake groaned loudly. Julian’s head smacked into the driver’s door window. He sat dazed for a moment, before jerking the gear-stick into first. The tires spun, then caught. He flew along the lane as fast as he dared, his eyes constantly flicking to the rearview mirror. When he reached the main-road, he floored the accelerator-pedal. It only occurred to him after he’d put a good few miles between the car and the turn-off that he hadn’t passed Ginger. Figuring that she’d hidden amongst the trees, he said, “Ginger ran away. Do you reckon we should go back to look for her?”
“Fuck her,” Jake grunted, barely moving his bloodied lips. “Where are we going?”
“Hospital.”
With an effort that caused his breath to hiss between his gritted teeth, Jake sat up. “Stop the car.”
Julian glanced at him in surprise. “What for?”
“Just fuckin’ do it.”
Julian pulled over at the Five Springs carpark. Jake clambered out of the car and, arms hugged tightly across his chest as if trying to hold himself together, started to shuffle away. Still dizzy from banging his head, Julian went after him. “What you doing?”
“Leave me alone.” Without looking at Julian, Jake continued walking with quickening, unsteady steps.
“You need to see a doctor.” When Jake shook his head, Julian continued, “At least tell me what happened back there.”
“Leave it.”
“Please, Jake, I need to know.”
Julian reached to put his hand on Jake’s shoulder. The boy whirled to face him, fists balled, teeth bared. “Don’t fuckin’ touch me.”
Sensing rather than seeing the fear skulking behind Jake’s anger, Julian raised his hands, palms forward. “Just tell me, did you find out something about Mia?”
“Mia’s gone.”
Julian’s eyes popped wide. “What do you mean gone? Do you mean she’s dead?”
“I mean you can’t help her.” Jake exhaled raggedly, his shoulders sagging. Voice heavy with fatalistic resignation, he added, “Give it up, rich boy.” He turned and headed once more along the path.
“I won’t give up,” Julian called after him. “No matter what, I won’t ever give up.”
Julian watched Jake disappear into the darkness of the trees. Then, his mind whirring, he returned to the car. It was obvious some great fear had been put into Jake. What shape that fear took was less obvious. Even if you tried to strip away the bravado, Jake didn’t strike Julian as someone easily frightened by threats to himself. In which case his fear must relate to a threat to someone else. And that someone was surely Mia. Which meant she was alive — alive but with Mr X holding the power of life and death over her. What gave him that power? Perhaps, thought Julian, it’s a debt over drugs — heroin, most likely — and he’s keeping her as a sex-slave until it’s paid off. She’d claimed she didn’t use, but junkies weren’t exactly known for being truthful. Maybe those cuts on her arms hid needle marks. Yes, that was it. The pieces suddenly seemed to be falling into place in his mind. At first, Mia had used Mr X to get money for junk. But now he was using her, and he’d keep using her until she was all used up. And then what? Would he fling her into the river for real or — as perhaps he’d promised Jake — would he let her go? Whatever, Julian knew he had to do something. Jake might’ve been hardened by his upbringing to accept, even embrace the darker side of life, but the thought of Mia playing the daughter to one more sicko made Julian want to throw up and scream and cry all at once. The grim memorial under the bridge was clearly a cry for help, and he was going to do everything in his power to give her the help she needed.
Julian took out Tom Benson’s card. He stared at it uncertainly a few seconds, before returning it to his pocket. Assuming Mr X did have Mia, getting the police involved might force him to carry out his threat. No, somehow, someway, he’d have to do this himself. A shadow of fear passed across his face, leaving behind a tight mask of resolution. He ducked into the car and jerked the wheel. The vehicle lurched forward, heading back into the heart of the forest. He barely let up on the accelerator even when he turned onto the lane, fearing his nerve might give way. He drove right up to the gate. The security-light was still on, illuminating an intercom box on one of the gateposts. As Julian got out of the car, a Doberman ran up to the gate and pushed its muzzle between the bars, barking. Eyeing it warily, he pressed the intercom button. After a moment, the intercom crackled to life, but no voice came over it.
Julian spoke into it, trying without success to keep emotion out of his voice and sound business-like. “I know you’ve got Mia.” He knew no such thing, of course, but he figured the bluff was worth a shot. “If she owes you money, I’m willing to pay it. I can get however much you need.” That wasn’t strictly true, but his dad had offered to buy him a new car, so he knew he could get his hands on several thousand. And if the debt was more than that he had a laptop, a PC, a stereo and plenty of other things he could sell. “I promise I won’t get the police involved.” He glanced up at the CCTV camera, waiting futilely for a reply. The silence coming over the intercom was palpable. The dog rolled its eyes at him, tongue lolling and head nodding, as though amused. He spoke into the box again. “Okay, I’m going, but my offer stands. Think it over and I’ll be back tomorrow.”
He ducked into the car, agonising over whether he’d done the right thing. Like bollocks you have, nagged an inner voice, all you’ve done is put Mia in more danger. He pushed the voice away, saying out loud, “Relax, you can do this. It’s just business, that’s all.” The whole way home, he kept repeating the words over and over, as if they were a mantra to ward off evil. They snagged in his throat when he saw Tom Benson waiting at the end of the driveway. The thought flashed through his mind that he was wrong about Mr X having Mia, that they’d dragged her out of the river. He lowered the window and asked with a sharp, metallic anxiety, “What is it? Have you found her?”
Tom Benson shook his head. Julian had no time to feel relieved as, getting into the passenger seat, the detective said, “We need to talk. And you’d better be ready to do some serious explaining. We received a call tonight about an attempted break-in at a house out on The Old Forest Road. The homeowner heard someone trying to jimmy a window. He tried to apprehend the intruder, who was…” He flipped open a notepad and read from it, “a boy of about fifteen or sixteen, slim build, shaved head. But after a struggle, the intruder managed to get away. A car was caught on CCTV at the scene.” He patted the dashboard. “This car.”
Julian knew the game was up — he’d known it from the instant Tom Benson opened his mouth. So, heaving a sigh, he just plunged in and told him everything about Jake, Ginger and Mr X. “Christ,” said the policeman, when Julian was finished. “What the hell were you thinking?”
“I was thinking about Mia, about saving her life.”
“You should’ve come to us.”
“I wanted to, but if Mr X-”
Tom Benson cut Julian off with a snort of impatience. “There’s no such person as Mr X.”
“But Ginger-”
“Ginger’s a lying, conniving, junkie who’d tell you anything to save her worthless hide.”
“No, she was telling the truth. How else would she know that house was there?”
“Maybe she didn’t, maybe she was just looking for an opportunity to get away.”
Julian sat in frowning silence. Could the detective be right? It didn’t take him long to admit that he could well be. After all, why else would Mr X, or whatever his name was, have contacted the police? Even so, he couldn’t bring himself to accept the possibility. Sure, Ginger probably hadn’t told him the whole truth, but the fear he’d seen in her eyes, and in Jake’s, had been genuine. He felt certain of it. “So who lives at that house?”
“A businessman.”
“What’s his name?”
“I can’t tell you that. He’s a law-abiding citizen with a right to privacy.”
“How do you know he’s law-abiding? Have you been and checked him out?”
“That’s where I’m heading as soon as I’ve finished with you.” Tom Benson sighed, looking across at Julian with something approaching sympathy. “Look, I know it’s easier to believe in Mr X than face up to the possibility that Mia Bradshaw’s killed herself, but I’m telling you Ginger fed you a line of horseshit. I’ll tell you something else, too. And I’m only going to tell you it one more time. Withholding information from the police is a criminal offence. So if you’ve got anything else to say…” He let the sentence hang like a threat.
“The only thing I have to say is, you’re wrong about Ginger lying. Mr X exists.”
Tom Benson shook his head in exasperation. “You don’t seem to realise the trouble you’re in, Julian. You have any idea the charges you could be facing? Breaking and entering, assault, kidnapping. By rights I should be taking you to jail. The only reason I’m not is because I know you did all this to try and save a young girl’s life. Now, when I speak to the man whose house you and Jake broke into tonight I’ll explain that to him, and maybe he won’t press charges. And when I find Ginger I’ll try and convince her not to press charges either.” The detective’s features grew grim. “But if you persist with this Mr X nonsense, if you continue to harass this man, I’ll be forced to arrest you. Do you understand? Am I getting through that stubborn head of yours?”
Julian nodded. “Will you call me after you’ve spoken to Mr…to the businessman?”
“Sure.” Tom Benson got out of the car. Almost as an afterthought, he added, “Oh, and if you see Jake Bradshaw again, make sure the next thing you do is call me.”
Julian drove into the driveway, aware of the policeman watching him. Quietly as possible he entered the house and made his way to his bedroom. A glance in the mirror showed him there was a half-egg shaped swelling where he’d hit his head, and his pupils were huge with concussion. He flopped onto the bed, not bothering to undress or get under the duvet. Again, he wondered whether Tom Benson was right. Again, he dismissed the possibility. The detective was either mistaken or lying. Maybe that’s what Jake had meant when he said, you can’t help her. Maybe the local police were corrupt. Maybe the whole fucking town was corrupt. When he closed his eyes, he felt the dropping sensation again. He was falling, dropping down, down into a fog of doubt, where he saw nothing but lies. Lies. Everywhere lies. They crowded in on him as thickly as trees in a forest, until it was impossible to know where they stopped and the truth began.